Kintla Flatlands Threw you the obvious, and you flew with it on your back

Mountains in the northeast had course corrected his travels; before he knew it, he had hit another range further south. He had tried to avoid climbing them because he knew the danger they posed for even the most experienced lone and wary travelers, though with the towering stone wall in sight he knew he was faced with no other option. Returning to the coast was his priority. The ocean was his blood — now more than anything else.

. . .

Three days he spent in preparation, feeding and resting at the foot of the mountainside. The ascent would be treacherous, though it was the descent that concerned him. Loose stone and poor footing had stolen an uncle, one of the most skilled voyagers he'd had the privilege of working under.

Perseus' life was priceless. He could not afford to exchange it now.

He found relief on flat plains after no such threat had appeared to confirm his caution. Paused and panting, he surveyed the land before him and scouted what appeared to be some sickly, lethargic thing.

Good morn and good tidings to you, he called, wary though not yet on edge.